


Can't Help Falling in Love

by being_whovian



Series: What is Love? [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Planet Sunday, Romance, kids being curious, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 21:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/being_whovian/pseuds/being_whovian
Summary: 'Mam? What does being in love look like?''Being in love looks like the flowers when they bloom in spring. Brand new, blooming into something beautiful.'





	Can't Help Falling in Love

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for fic_promptly! I really really enjoyed writing this one! Not that I know what love feels like! Also the title is obviously a song by the great Elvis! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who! It belongs to the BBC! I own my OC's!

_'Mam? What does being in love look like?'_ asked the little girl, sat before her mother at the dinner table in a lovely little restaurant on the planet Sunday. The little girls mother smiled.

_'Being in love looks like the flowers when they bloom in spring. Brand new, blooming into something beautiful.'_

The little girl paused, big blue eyes narrowing in thought. _**Not all love could be so perfect sounding.**_ Just as that passed through her mind, the most unlikely pair of people breezed passed her table; she was much smaller than the man she walked with, dressed in a flattering navy blue dress which hung off of her shoulders. She wore a pair of simple heels and her dark hair in a precise plait. Her cheeks were pink and a smile had been permanent painted on her lips.

He was tall, long limbed and older. **_Quite a bit older._** thought the little girl, as he stopped before the table they had reserved. He had greying hair, yet any other colour would look unnatural in her eyes. He was dressed in black trousers, a shirt so white she wondered how he could keep it so clean and over the top he wore a long black coat, **_with flaps on the back_** she thought with a smile and black boots.

He too seemed to smile. His face looked younger when he looked at the woman he stood with, waiting to be seated by the tentacled waitress, who slipped across the floor towards the table.

_'Mam? What does being in love feel like?'_

She kept watching them. Menu's were often used as a barrier, a way to hide your face. Yet for these two unlikely people it gave them an excuse to reach over, their hands ever so close to touching, yet never quite getting there.

 _'It feels like nothing else matters sweetie. It feels like a warm hug; close and whole.'_ said the little girls mother, as she looked at the menu.

Whilst one looked down, the other seemed to watch them. Take in everything the could before the other noticed. She watched their eyes. Their eyes mapped every inch, remembered every freckle and every line, every scar and every blemish.

Before her mother could stop her, she slipped out of her chair and scampered across the restaurant, long red hair flowing behind her. She paused feet from the table where these two people sat.

 _'Excuse me?'_ she asked politely. The man seemed to freeze, his facial expression changing so rapidly that if she hadn't been watching she'd have missed it. Yet the woman continued to smile, big brown eyes sparkling.

_'Yes?'_

The little girl found it hard not to smile back at the woman. She looked so young. Carefree and joyous. Perhaps that's why he loved her? **_She made him feel young again?_** she clasped her hands behind her back, a blush appearing in her pale cheeks.

_'My Mam, she says that love feels like a warm hug and looks like new flowers in the spring. Is it true?'_

The woman looked across the table, her cheeks a brilliant pink still. She turned in her chair and beckoned her over. The little girl moved with caution and curiosity.

_'For me? It feels like the oldest of books in the library. The ones right at the back, a bit beaten and battered but most definitely loved.'_

Her voice was like a whisper; soft and gentle. The little girl could feel her heart melt slightly. Because she knew. She knew then that this woman felt **_him_**. That was her love.

_'For me, it looks like a perfect moment, frozen in time.'_

The little girl could feel it. She could feel the love this woman had for the man sitting across from her and it wasn't perfect, that much she could suss out. There was a sadness somewhere, she could see it behind the sparkle in her eyes. _'It's not perfect. Nothing can ever be so. But it's fun. It's caring. It's adventurous and terrifying. That's what love is.'_

She bit her lip, turning to see the man smiling. It was so soft, full of warmth and care. His eyes; his old old eyes were gentle and kind. She could see that he was wary of her, but he knew that the little girl could do no harm.

The little girl didn't ask him. She knew already. She knew from the way he looked at the woman across from him, what it felt like for him and what it looked like. She bowed her head and stepped back.

 _'Thank you.'_ the little girl said, before leaving them to order their dinner.

When she sat down at her own table, her mother reprimanding her for disappearing, she knew then that love knew no bounds. That age meant nothing when it came to how one feels.

She glanced one more time at possibly the most unlikely couple and smiled.

_Love feels like the heat of the sun against you skin; hot and gentle. Love looks like the newest book on the shelf; untouched and ever so new._


End file.
